


For the Heart I Once Had

by SwedishTaco



Series: AU!AU [1]
Category: Book of Life (2014)
Genre: Blood, Character Death, Joaquin centric, Major character death - Freeform, Multi, Thoughts of Suicide, implied that tres leches could have happened but didn't, it's all Xibalba's fault, minor gore, poor boy's been through the ringer, some violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-07
Updated: 2015-07-07
Packaged: 2018-04-08 03:12:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4288542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SwedishTaco/pseuds/SwedishTaco
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s been over five years since he started his quest to be reunited with his friends, but this was not the conclusion he had been hoping for.</p><p>His vision became blurry, and his throat closed off even more, making it difficult to breathe. The ache in his chest intensified, threatening to devour him. “No. They can’t be. They can’t.” Joaquín’s mind raced, grasping at anything that could help him. “There has to be something that can be done. Some way they can come back.” The soldier looked at the gods, pleading for them to help him. He knew it was insane to let himself hope that something could be done, but there had to be something.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For the Heart I Once Had

He lunged with a bellow, locking swords with the bandit. His foot kicked out, striking square in the giant’s gut, but it did little good. Chakal still had the medal, and until he could get it away from the monster, he didn’t have a chance in hell of defeating him. He was trying to be subtle about it; he knew that being obvious with what he was trying to do would be his downfall.

Joaquín dodged a swing from one of Chakal’s massive swords, rolling out of the way and back onto his feet in one smooth motion. The one thing he had going for him was his speed, and he was going to use that to his greatest advantage. He was sticking to small, shallow cuts, knowing that more deep and powerful blows would slow him down and make him a target. Even with Chakal’s increased healing abilities, and lack of pain, Joaquín could still temporarily disable his opponent by striking in the right area. After all, severed tendons couldn’t function.

So far his plan was working; Chakal was getting more and more furious at him, and his moves were starting to get sloppy. Joaquín bided his time, not daring to make the same mistake twice. He’d gotten cocky once before, and it had cost him dearly.

Chakal roared, bringing both his blades down on Joaquín. The soldier - _could he really call himself that anymore?_ – brought his up to bare, blocking the blow from cleaving him in half. The force being pressed down on him threatened to crush him, and every muscle in his body screamed in agony. Joaquín stepped to the side so that Chakal’s swords dislodged from his and were deflected into the ground.

He could see it, glinting with cursed power. This could be his only chance to disarm Chakal, and he was going to take it. Joaquín spun under the bandit king’s arms, past his defenses, and grabbed hold of the medal. He could feel the familiar power pulsing through the metal, as if it were calling to him, but Joaquín ignored it and ripped it from Chakal’s shirt. As soon as it was dislodged, he hurled it away with as much strength as he could muster.

Joaquín didn’t think; with a feral cry he brought both his swords up, and pushed through with all his might.

It was strange; he felt there should have been more resistance against his swords. But his blades easily penetrated Chakal’s rib cage, the amount of force he’d put behind the blow causing the hilts of his swords to make a hollow _thump_ as they hit bone. He heard a wheeze of air and a gurgle, knowing that it was from Chakal, but refusing to believe it could have been that simple.

He let go of his swords and stepped back, just as the hulking beast of a man collapsed. Joaquín stood there, his chest heaving trying to regain his breath as he watched Chakal give one more lurch before becoming still. His eye was wide, and he didn’t breathe, thinking that the man was going to start laughing at him and then run him through. But as he watched, and time crept by, nothing happened. Chakal didn’t move or give any sign of life, the pool of blood under him continuing to spread and stain the ground.

Eventually, Joaquín’s lungs screamed at him for fresh air, and he puffed out a sigh. His entire body shook, his legs finally giving up the fight of supporting him and he collapsed to the ground. He curled over his lap, torn between laughing and sobbing. The noise that came out of his mouth a second later was a mixture of the two.

For over five years he had been hunting down Chakal, following whatever leads he could get his hands on and dispatching any and all bandits he’d come across. He had made it his mission to clear the country of as many criminals as he could, knowing that after Chakal had been dealt with he wouldn’t get any more chances. He had helped as much as he could and as often as he could, accepting only a handful of rations in return. He didn’t deserve anything more than that.

For over five years he’s blamed himself for everything that had happened. Manolo’s death, Chakal coming and burning down the town…María’s death. If it wasn’t for him, none of those things would have occurred. He was the one who’d drawn the bandits back because of the medal. Rather than comforting his friend when they thought that María had died, he spat vile and hateful words at him. They were the last things he said to the bullfighter. And María…her death lay squarely on his shoulders. If he had just been stronger, held on _tighter_ …she might still be alive.

For over five years his heart had ached. Everyone in his life left him: first his father, then his mother and sister shunned him and refused to even speak with him. Then Manolo and María died. Hell, even Plata was taken from him. Joaquín missed his friends, to the point that he was going to join them in the afterlife. He wanted the chance to apologize to them, tell them he was sorry for everything that he had done, everything that had happened. Even if they never wanted anything to do with him after that, at least he would get to see them one last time.

And now his suffering was almost over.

Joaquín forced himself to stand, swaying on still shaking legs. He walked over to Chakal’s body, pulling his swords from the man’s chest. The bandit king was very much dead, but that didn’t stop Joaquín from feeling sick, knowing what he had to do. Crossing his swords over Chakal’s neck, Joaquín flicked them apart, having to repeat the action several times to cut through the bandit’s flesh and bone completely. Joaquín did his best to not look at the severed head while he shoved it in a bag.

It never would have been his idea, nor would he have thought of such a thing. But…the creature had requested that he bring proof of Chakal’s defeat, along with the medal. Speaking of…Joaquín looked around him, trying to locate that evil glow. It didn’t take him very long, considering it was dark and there wasn’t much in the way of light out here in the desert. He walked over to the cursed thing, reaching down and dislodging it from the dirt. He tossed it in his hand a couple of times, once again feeling that familiar pull.

For the time being, he shoved the medal into a small pouch at his hip, turning on his heel and gathering the bag that had Chakal’s severed head in it. Joaquín’s gait was brisk; he didn’t want to stick around longer than he had to. No doubt there could be more bandits in the area. After making it back to his horse, he strapped the bag to the saddle. Before he mounted, he made sure to pull out the medal and attach it to the horse’s harness. This way the horse wouldn’t need to rest as much while he traveled halfway across the country.

As he saddled up and kicked the horse into a gallop, he couldn’t help but miss Plata. Not that the horse he had now was bad or difficult, he just missed his girl. However, on occasion, there can be casualties during a bandit raid…especially when he was doing the raiding.

He had made the mistake of rushing full in to a bandit nest, without doing any kind of reconnaissance to see what he was up against. Needless to say he barely made it out alive, and because of his shortsightedness, Plata did not.

Joaquín’s features screwed up in pain; just another thing to add to his list of transgressions.

He didn’t know how far he had gotten, but it was long enough that the sun was starting to rise. The first rays were always comforting to him, and reminded him of better times. A smile he didn’t think he had in him made its way across his lips.

Joaquín remembered one morning a long, long time ago when Manolo woke and drug him out of his house before dawn. His friend had been beyond excitement, and he remembered wondering how Manolo could be so chipper before the first rays had touched the desert. The young bullfighter had tugged him all the way out of town and across the bridge, only letting go of his nightshirt once they were at the huge tree on the other side.

He still remembered how blinding Manolo’s smile had been as he’d spun the soldier around to face the town; and a moment later Joaquín found out why. When the rising sun hit the town, it was the most amazing thing he thought he’d ever seen in his life. Manolo’s excitement was infectious; the grin that was plastered on Joaquín’s face was big enough to make his cheeks hurt. He remembered turning to his friend, confused, but impressed that Manolo had figured out this breathtaking thing.

_“When María gets back, I’m going to show her too!”_

_“I think she’ll be pretty damn impressed, buddy.”_

_“You think so? I was going to propose like this…”_

_“Trust me, she’ll love it. There’s no way she’d say no.”_

His smile faltered. He had been right after all, but that was little consolation to the events that followed. Joaquín grit his teeth, the muscles in his jaw jumping. _Gods, how could he have been so cruel?_ There was no good reason why he had acted the way he did, other than because he was being childish. He knew it wasn’t Manolo’s fault what happened, but his friend had been the easiest outlet at the time to take his anger and frustration out on. After he had cooled down, he was going to leave María’s side to apologize, but he never got that far. A terrible wail had caught his attention, and everyone in the Posada home had rushed to the windows to see what was happening…

To see Carlos carrying Manolo’s body home. He’d been shocked at first, but the more he’d started thinking about it, the angrier he became. There was only one reason that stood out in his mind as to why his friend would go back to that tree, and it wasn’t to kill the snake. Joaquín had internalized his rage, screaming in his mind; how could Manolo do this, how could he do something so selfish and stupid. But after looking at María’s lifeless form again, he didn’t have to think any further to understand. The soldier just wished he could have spoken to his friend one last time to say how sorry he was for the things he said, that he didn’t mean them and he was just upset.

Maybe one day he would get the opportunity, as well as the chance to _tell_ him, but today was not that day.

Joaquín pushed the memories away, the thoughts too painful. His reprieve was short lived. Not soon after, his mind started to wander, thinking of what happened after…after Manolo passed away. It still felt like that entire day had been a blur. The soldier had needed some time to himself, despite the General’s protests. He had just lost his two best friends in one day, the only two people who really mattered to him. They were his _whole world_. Without them in it…life didn’t seem worth living anymore.

When he had calmed himself down enough, he decided it was time to pay his last respects to María; he would go to Manolo afterwards. And then…then she was _alive_ , and he didn’t understand how any of this could be happening. He knew better now, but at the time there had been so much confusion that he just got swept up in everything. He was still numb and shocked from both of his friends being dead, to María being alive, that he didn’t have enough time to process what has happening around him.

It wasn’t until everyone left he and María alone that it dawned on him that they were now to get married. How could he have let that happen? That was the farthest thing from his mind, and he couldn’t even imagine what María must have been going through. Well, that wasn’t completely true…he knew exactly how María felt, because he was feeling it too. Once he had gotten his wits about him, he spilled his guts to her, telling her everything that had happened in hopes that maybe, just maybe, she would hate him and they could call off the wedding.

Joaquín snapped the reigns, urging his horse to travel faster. Even with the power of the medal, he knew that they would eventually need to stop somewhere. The cursed thing might have granted the wearer protection against injury and pain, but it didn’t prevent starvation or dehydration. They could easily go for half a day more before they had to seek out a town. At the rate they were going, Joaquín estimated it would take him maybe another day, two at the most, to get to his destination. He really couldn’t call it home anymore.

As the sun continued its climb into the sky, his thoughts continued to bombard him with memories. How even after he had broken down in front of María, telling her everything that happened and leaving out no details, she had embraced him. Joaquín had latched onto her, the two of them holding each other together in their brokenness. They had stayed that way for an unknown amount of time, taking what little comfort they could provide to each other as they grieved. When their tears had slowed, since there was no stopping them, they both agreed that now was not the time for a wedding.

They didn’t get much father than that before an explosion rocked them in their places. Through the streets the call was going up that Chakal was coming, and the two didn’t have to say anything before taking action. They could worry about everything else later. Between the two of them, they picked up arms and rallied the townspeople, knowing they were going to need everyone’s help to defeat the bandits. By the time Chakal and his gang made it to the church, there was a mob of angry townspeople waiting for them.

When María found out about the medal, she wasn’t happy. He didn’t blame her for it either. Joaquín had to learn the hard way that there was a time for showing off, and a time for knuckling down and fighting with everything one had. The soldier was too busy flaunting that he ended up losing the medal, and proceeded to get his ass handed to him. The battle that followed was a frantic, terrible thing.

He commended the townspeople for their bravery and valiance. They fought hard, and they fought well, beating back the lesser bandits. Joaquín and María tackled Chakal, and for a time, they were keeping him at bay. Then one of his bandits found the medal and handed it off to him.

They couldn’t touch him after that. No matter how hard or often they hit, Joaquín and María couldn’t take him down. Even with their combined strength and skill, they couldn’t manage to get the medal back. It only took one good hit for María to be thrown back, a bleeding gash on her side. Joaquín was at her side in an instant, but not before giving Chakal a swift punch to his jaw.

He didn’t know how much he was shaking until his legs gave out from under him. Gods, she wasn’t moving _she wasn’t moving!_ She wasn’t breathing and her body lolled when he slipped his hands under her, one cradling her neck searching for a pulse. That’s when he felt it: a strong, steady heartbeat. Joaquín almost gave a shout of joy knowing that she was alive, but he managed to stop himself. María, the clever thing, was pretending to be dead. And the soldier played it like his life depended on it…which it did.

How she knew it would work, he would never know. The moment Chakal saw his reaction, and everyone heard his cries, the battle halted. Joaquín remembered the bastard’s chuckle, the sound a dark, horrible wheezing. If this was going to work, he needed to convince himself María was dead. Luck was on his side that he didn’t have to pretend too much.

_“I’ll hunt you down and kill you…I’ll make you pay for what you’ve done!”_

_“I doubt that, soldier boy. If your father couldn’t do it, there’s no way you could.”_

_Joaquín made to lunge, but a giant metal hand pinned him down. He put up a struggle, but eventually settled for glaring at Chakal._

_“You’re cursed, boy. Just like your father. Everyone you care about will die.”_

And then they were gone. Chakal released him after pressing him further into the ground to the point he heard popping sounds and his sides flared in pain. As they left the bandits set fire to the town, and it would take the townspeople well in to the night to control the blaze. No one knew why they left; only that they did and everyone was grateful for it.

Later, after María had been treated, she offered up her own theory. She thought that because he’d killed María, it would be a worse fate to leave Joaquín alive. He would have to suffer with the knowledge that he couldn’t save her, no matter what he did, and would have to live with the shame and agony. Chakal left Joaquín alive, knowing that if he had been killed he would have been reunited with his love, and that he was too much of a coward to follow after her on his own. María assured him that she didn’t think he was a coward, but he knew deep down that he was…and that her theory hit closer to home than she would ever know.

As much as he had wanted to go running off after the bandits, there was a much greater need for him here. He and María personally took care of the funeral preparations for the Sanchez’s after they discovered that the entire family had departed in one day. Joaquín was sick to his stomach when he found Carlos. And, despite not getting along with the man for as long as he knew him, the bullfighter deserved a proper funeral and burial…they all did. That was taken care of the day after the battle.

Rebuilding was a chore, but it needed to be done. The rubble was cleared away within half a week, and then the real repairs could take place. María and Joaquín took it upon themselves to do whatever needed to be done. Joaquín protested against María doing anything too strenuous, she was still recovering after all. She had punched him in the shoulder and accused him of treating her like some kind of delicate flower, and she knew what her limits were. Joaquín hadn’t said anything further, but he still kept an eye on her, just to be safe.

The repairs had been going well, well enough that the General was once again starting to drop hints about María and Joaquín getting married. After hearing it for the umpteenth time, María had snapped, giving her father the verbal lashing of a lifetime. Joaquín was unfortunate enough to be witness to the display, and he never thought he’d seen the General look so terrified before.

The soldier remembered the conversation they had later with fondness, but his heart gave a painful lurch as well. He idly rubbed at his chest where the ache spread from; he was beginning to wonder if the only thing left where his heart had been was pain.

It was one of the last pleasant memories he had…

* * * * *

Joaquín had later approached María, asking if she was alright. Instead of answering his question, she had latched onto him, hugging him as if her life depended on it. He had returned the embrace without hesitation, rubbing soothing circles into her back until her shoulders had stopped shaking. The soldier was terrible at comforting people, but he did his best for María. Long minutes passed, but she calmed down enough to look at him, wiping away her tears in a rush with the back of her arm.

Before he could stop himself, he had made a delicate swipe with his thumb to clear away a few drops under her eye that she had missed. When Joaquín had realized what he had done, he made to step away, stammering out a hasty apology.

María had fisted her hands in his uniform jacket, preventing him from getting too far. She was gazing up at him with a look he couldn’t place, but he could tell she was working something through.

“Why are you still here?”

“W-what?”

“Why are you still here, in San Angel?”

Joaquín offered her an anxious smile, “I um…w-why wouldn’t I be?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “I just thought with everything that had happened…you’d be off chasing those bandits.”

The soldier sighed, his shoulders slumping. “I felt it was more important for me to be here…this is where I’m needed.”

Her eyes searched his face before narrowing. Her grip on his jacket tightened. “Damn it, Joaquín, give me a straight answer for once!”

“I wanted to make sure you’re ok, alright!” Joaquín snapped his mouth shut a moment later. He looked away, not even daring to meet her eyes. His throat worked as he swallowed. “After everything that’s happened, I need to make sure you’re ok. I know how much you’re hurting, even though you don’t show it, and I just…” he sighed again, closing his eyes, “I want to help, but I don’t know how. So I’m here for you, whenever you need me.”

Joaquín felt María’s fingers on his face, turning him back to look at her. After a moment, he dared open his eyes and see whatever look she held for him. Never did he expect to see the sympathy and understanding there. He had expected something akin to anger for trying to coddle her and treating her like she was about to break. Her eyes started to tear up again as she spoke. “How do you know?”

“Because I loved him too.” The words slipped out of his mouth before his brain registered what he’d said. His eyes immediately widened and his face flushed to the point of burning. _Oh Gods, he’d just said that out loud…he’d just said that out loud to María_. He wanted to run, be anywhere but here, but his body refused to cooperate.

She smiled that wide, knowing grin he had come to associate with her. María brushed her thumb over his cheek, a simple touch that had him relaxing into her hand. “You’ve done more than you know already.” Her eyes were still shiny, but they were made less somber by the smirk stretching her lips. “Thank you, for being here…for staying.”

Joaquín was gentle when removing her hand from his cheek, but he didn’t let it go. He ran his thumb over her knuckles, fascinated by their definition and toughness. He shouldn’t have been surprised by that, knowing she was trained in hand to hand combat. “María, I want you to know, after you woke up…had I been in my right mind, I would have fought your father on the proposal.” The soldier chuckled, but the sound was tight. “I still plan to. But I would have stayed no matter what you had said. And had the ceremony gone through…I would have said no. I’m going to stay here, for as long as I’m needed, by the town and by you.”

An odd look passed over her features, one that Joaquín couldn’t place. María cocked her head to the side, her eyes appearing to study him. “What if I asked you to stay indefinitely?”

He smiled at her, his thumb still trailing a soft caress over her knuckles unconsciously. “Then I would stay indefinitely. I would never turn down such a request from a friend.” Joaquín made sure to emphasize the word, wanting her to know that’s what he was first and foremost. Even if that’s all he ever stayed, he would be happy with it.

María raised an eyebrow, her look turned calculating. “Just a friend?”

The soldier sighed. “Look, I’m not going to pretend…I know that you wanted Manolo, he’s the one you love.” He smiled through the ache in his chest, his laugh quiet but strangled. “It was never me, and…I’m not going to take that away from you.”

He was going to drop her hand after that, but she beat him to it, taking it back to cross her arms over her chest. He averted his eyes from hers, not wanting to see whatever anger she would harbor there for him.

“What makes you think I don’t love you too?”

That had his attention snapping back to her. “I-what?”

María shifted her weight, looking at him with curious eyes. “You seem to think I hold you in such low respects. So I’ll ask again: what makes you think I don’t love you too?”

Joaquín opened his mouth to speak, but snapped it shut a second later. A moment or two passed before he could formulate a response. “Because of they way that I acted, both towards you and Manolo. I was too full of myself and had my head stuck too far up my ass to see what was really going on around me. Because I…” He swallowed thickly when his throat tightened up. “Because I was an idiot that didn’t think before he spoke, and the last things that I said to my best friend were terrible. I…I don’t want to be anything more than your friend, if it means doing right by him. Manolo -”

“Isn’t here.” She interrupted, pressing her hand against his arm to halt his train of thought. María held up her other hand when he attempted to open his mouth. “You’re right, I do love him…” she took a calming breath, “But, I don’t love you any more, or any less.”

He shook his head, his face screwing up in confusion and something else. “I don’t think I understand?”

María offered him a kind smile, her hand on his arm giving a gentle squeeze. “What I’m saying is that I love you just as much as I love Manolo. And I think that, given different circumstances and events, I could have just as easily chosen you. That being said, in a perfect world, I wouldn’t have had to choose.” She raised her eyebrows at the implication.

Joaquín was floored, his slow mind latching onto that idea relatively fast. “You…you would have…” His eyes widened, a flush crept across his cheeks again, and his voice came out as a soft squeak. “Both of us?”

Her smile turned teasing, giving him a light shove. “I don’t think I can put it any more simply. Yes, I would have liked the both of you.”

 _What they could have done with this information sooner_ …he thought as he cleared his throat. Out of habit, he ran his hands down his front, smoothing out his jacket and the medals still adorning it. “I uh…wow. So…what-um…what now?” Joaquín shifted from foot to foot, clasping his hands behind his back.

María sighed, placing her hands on her hips and looked out from the alley they had been hiding away in. “Well, we still have a lot to do with rebuilding the town. And…there’s the matter of us still technically being engaged.”

The soldier’s face went slack for a moment with the realization. “Ah! Of course.” Behind his back, his fingers started to tap a disjointed rhythm against him palm. “I’ll be sure to let the General know that it’s been called off. Maybe if we just tell him that we aren’t interested he might back off.” Joaquín turned to leave, but the hand still on his arm stopped his progress. He turned a questioning look on María.

“That’s not what I meant, Joaquín.” She pulled him back by his jacket sleeve.

His brows furrowed in his confusion, but the longer she looked at him expectantly, it dawned on him what she meant. Fear and worry curled in his gut, and he rushed to assure her. “No, María you don’t…you don’t have to do that, I already said I was going to stay.”

María rolled her eyes and gave him a _look_. “I don’t _have_ to do anything. I thought I had made that perfectly clear.” She slid her hand down his arm, coaxing him to remove it from behind his back until she had his hand clasped in hers. “But…I don’t think we should cancel the engagement.”

“María…”

She shook her head, bringing her other hand to join the one cupping Joaquín’s. María ran her fingers over his knuckles and palms, tracing the calluses there. “I’m not saying we get married now…neither of us are ready, or in a good place of mind. We just lost Manolo after all…” She closed her eyes a moment, and when she opened them there was an extra shine to them. “But…one day. After the town is settled…and maybe after we’ve gone after those bandits.”

“You would want to go after the bandits?” Joaquín had hoped that in the future, María would let him go after them, but bringing her with him? He’d enjoy the company, and the extra help, but he didn’t like the idea of putting her in danger. “But they have the medal.”

“Even more reason to go after them.” María challenged. “The least we can do is pay them back for sacking our home. All the better for us if we can get that medal away from them.”

Joaquín eyed her a minute before letting out a sigh. He knew he wouldn’t be able to stop her anyway. “Alright, after the town is rebuilt and everything’s returned to normal, we’ll hunt down the bandits.”

The smile that lit up her face made his stomach flip. The soldier didn’t think he would ever stop reacting to her smile.

* * * * *

That had been true, and still was. Whenever he thought of María’s or Manolo’s smile, it would make the corners of his lips twitch, but caused his chest to constrict in pain. It was bearable now, because his journey was coming to an end. Soon, he would be able to see the loves of his life again. Joaquín had been waiting for this day for so long.

The soldier’s thoughts once again drifted to that day he would sooner forget. He tried to focus his memories on something else, _anything else_ , but they came unbidden anyway.

After a few weeks, enough progress had been made on repairs to the town that everyone’s efforts could be turned to repairing the church. Originally, only enough was done so that the building wouldn’t leak when it rained, but now it was time to rebuild and repair the bell tower that had been destroyed in the battle. Scaffolding had been erected along the face of the church so that the work would be easy and steady for the townspeople.

It had been abnormally hot that day, and so María had been making frequent rounds up and down the scaffolding bringing the workers water. Joaquín had been doing most of the heavy lifting, taking newly formed loads of bricks up and rubble down, and helping anywhere he could. He remembered that he had forgone his uniform that day, both for ease of movement and the oppressive heat.

Joaquín had been helping one of the town artisan’s lay bricks when María had come by, and decided to take a short break. He and the artisan were grateful for the water she had brought them, draining the canteens the moment the containers were in their hands. The three stood and chatted for a few minutes, before María had to move on to other workers.

He didn’t know how much time had passed, it could have been minutes or hours for all he knew, but the scaffolding gave a violent shudder. Calls and cries of alarm were raised, and Joaquín looked over the edge of his level to see what could have happened. Fear gripped him when he saw that one of the support struts had failed, buckling under the weight. He easily fell into his role as hero, urging everyone on his level down the ladders. It went without saying that they needed to move fast, but still be safe.

From above, he could hear María giving similar orders. Townspeople were now flooding down from upper levels, and he did his best to keep everyone from panicking. Joaquín was good at keeping a level head in an emergency; it had been beaten into him during his training. The soldier offered his help to anyone who needed it, lowering people down to the next level when the ladder down had snapped under the stress from the extra traffic.

Another shudder rocked the scaffolding, and he was thrown to the floor this time. He was on his feet in an instant, taking stock of how many people were left to get down to a safer level. Joaquín leaned over the edge once again to check on how much time they could have. There was a group of people at the bottom, doing their best to hold the failing structure together until everyone was safely on the ground. He turned his attention upward, searching for anyone else that could still be on the upper levels.

The sound of feet landing on wood had him turning around, seeing María had come down the ladder from above. She informed him that she was the last down; she had wanted to make sure that everyone else made it to safety before worrying about herself. He made sure to tell her about the broken ladder, and offered her his hand to help her down. She had given him one of those mischievous smirks and hopped down to the next level. When he peeked through the hole, she was looking at him expectantly with a raised brow.

Joaquín had returned a grin of his own, and jumped down as well, landing in a crouched position. María offered him her hand, which he gladly took even though he didn’t need it. They had just turned to go down the next level when another violent tremor racked the structure they were on. The soldier managed to keep his footing, but María wasn’t as lucky.

She tipped over the edge with a cry and started to fall, her hand reaching out in reflex to the solder. Joaquín shot forward and managed to grab hold of her wrist, his arm snapping taught as he took on her full weight. His other hand gripped at a wooden beam for stability, his heart thundering in his chest as María dangled over the edge of the platform. The scaffolding let out a groan and he knew they didn’t have much time left to get down.

With a soft grunt, he hauled her up, bringing her safely onto the platform. Joaquín felt much better once she had her footing back. She must have too by the way she was clinging to him. He rubbed her back briefly, her hand still locked in his grip between them. The soldier gave her a winning smile and a soft chuckle.

_“I told you you’d fall for me one day.”_

_“Ha ha, very funny.”_

María had hit him in the shoulder, but it lacked strength and heat, even if he didn’t have the smile to go by. They were interrupted when structure creaked, and they knew it was time to move on. Joaquín, María’s hand still in his, started making the way towards the ladder down to the next level. She stayed close to his side, and he didn’t blame her, nearly falling couldn’t have been much fun.

Without warning the structure lurched, sending the soldier off kilter enough that he stumbled and his knee slammed into the floor. His grip tightened on María’s hand, but the slickness of his palm prevented him from getting a good grip and it slipped from his hold. He looked up in time to see her tilting over the edge, once again reaching for him, her mouth opened in a silent scream. Scrambling, he dove for the side for the platform, reaching out to her.

His heart stopped as their fingertips brushed.

And she was gone.

The world around him slowed down. He thought he might have screamed, but what that could have been he has no recollection of. Joaquín’s hand was still stretched out, as if reaching for María could still somehow save her. Her eyes stayed locked with his, only breaking contact right before…

He still couldn’t get the image out his mind; it would haunt him for the rest of his existence. The soldier didn’t remember climbing the rest of the way down, nor did he remember what followed. What he did remember was cradling María to him until the other soldiers dragged him away. General Posada said nothing to him after that, and Joaquín knew the man blamed him for his daughter’s death. He deserved it after all; if it wasn’t for him, María would still be alive.

Joaquín was certain that’s the day his heart shattered, leaving nothing but a blackened hole in its wake.

María’s funeral and burial had been short and swift. He was allowed to attend both, but then was asked to leave immediately after. Joaquín knew they didn’t just mean the graveyard, but San Angel itself. He wasn’t trusted anymore, and it was clear that everyone had been avoiding him, treating him like a plague on the town. The soldier was beginning to think they were right.

He packed up what supplies he would need on his travels, and what few objects held sentimental value, and headed out of town. There was no send off, no fanfare, nothing but the night and the cold rain to see him on his way.

Before he left completely, he stopped at the old tree. Joaquín lit two candles he’d placed near the base of the tree, pleased that the leaves were thick enough to protect them from the rain. His vision clouded and the muscles in his jaw jumped in an attempt to keep himself together, but after everything that had happened he couldn’t hold it in anymore.

Joaquín’s legs gave out from under him, and he sunk to the ground. His hands were curled at his knees, gripping the fabric of his pants like it might save him from his despair. His shoulders hunched over his lap and they shook with the force of his sobbing. Tears streamed down his face, mixing with the rain that dripped down from hair. The soldier made very little sound save for a sniffle or a sharp inhale, and that was fine by him. No one else needed to hear him; he deserved to suffer in silence.

_At least they were together now._

It was the only thing that brought him even a modicum of comfort. By the time he had stood to leave, both of the candles were halfway burned through and the rain had let up.

For a moment, he stared at the candles, feeling a now familiar tug on his heart. The soldier reached back to grab one of his blades, the slow pull from the sheath was a familiar sound, but now it seemed too loud. He contemplated the gleaming steel; how easy it would be to slide it between his ribs and end it all…then he could be with his friends. For a split second, it seemed like the perfect plan, and so fitting that he’d die on his own blade.

But sense soon took hold and he threw the blade on the ground. His hands went to his hair, fisting in the short locks and pulling as another strangled sob racked his body. He started to pace back and forth to prevent himself from having another breakdown. When the soldier had calmed himself, he snatched up his sword and put it back where it belonged. He thought bitterly that he couldn’t even face death properly.

They were right when they said he was a coward.

He was walking towards Plata when he felt something in the air around him shift, and it gave him pause. A moment later, it was like his chest was being pressed, and he found it harder to breathe. Joaquín turned around expecting to find nothing, thinking it was just his mind playing tricks on him.

Instead he found a creature, black as tar, towering over him. Under normal circumstances, he probably would have been concerned, maybe even frightened. However, feeling as numb and dead inside as he did, made no reaction other than cocking his head to the side.

_“What are you?”_

_“That is no concern of yours…I’ve come here to offer you a deal.”_

_He thought a moment, feeling nothing good could come of this creature. “What kind of deal?”_

_“If you can manage to do a favor for me, I will do a favor for you in return.”_

_Joaquín scoffed. “What kind of favor could you possibly do for me? There’s nothing I want.”_

_The creature chuckled, his mouth growing sharp teeth. “Not even to be reunited with the two people you hold most dear?”_

_His eyes narrowed. “You can do that?” His tone was skeptical._

_“Please, I can do a lot of things you can’t even imagine.” He waved his hand around in a bored circle. “So, what d’ya say?” Red skull eyes turned on the soldier._

_Joaquín hesitated. Something pulled at the back of his mind, almost like a memory from long ago. He felt like he couldn’t trust this creature, and he probably shouldn’t…but any chance that he might be with his friends he would take. “If I do this favor for you…you’ll make sure I’ll get to see my friends again and we’ll be together?”_

_“Yes, yes, of course. You’ll be together until the end of eternity and all that. So do we have a deal?” The creature reached his hand out towards the soldier._

_He started to reach for the creature’s hand to shake it but stopped. “What’s this favor I’m doing for you?”_

_The creature grumbled, once again twirling his hand around in a circle. “I want you to get my medal back for me, since you were the one who lost it in the first place. I also want that bandit’s head. I mean that literally; I want you to bring me his head. Do these things for me, and I’ll give you whatever you desire…” His grin widened, once again forming sharp teeth. “Do we have a deal?”_

_Joaquín eyed the creature one last time before finally taking his hand and giving it a firm shake. A cold shiver ran up his arm, his skin crawling from touch of the creature. “We have a deal.”_

_“Perfect.” The creature spread his massive wings, the ratty looking things casting a shadow over the soldier. “Take all the time you need. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have somewhere to be.” He disappeared in a streak of tar._

He probably should have never made that deal, but he was desperate. He still was as he urged his horse faster, coming up on the border of San Angel. His journey was finally coming to and end. At long last, he could rest…and see his friends.

The soldier had been running over in his head what he would say when he saw them again. Joaquín knew one of the first things out of his mouth would be apologies, to the both of them. What happened to them was entirely his fault, and he wanted them to know that he accepted full responsibility for their deaths. He knew he also wanted to embrace them, even if it was the only chance he would get once he attempted to make amends. He wouldn’t blame them if they hated him for what he had done. He already did.

Joaquín pulled back on the reigns, slowing his horse down to a trot as the large tree came into view. Just past it, San Angel glittered with warmth and life in the darkness that surrounded it. He was pleased that nothing else of misfortune had happened since he’d been away. Even just looking at the town, his chest constricted.

Busying himself with dismounting from his horse, he untied the bag on the saddle and removed the medal from the horse’s harness. For a moment, Joaquín stood there beneath the tree, unsure of how to even get in contact with the creature. After standing there for several long, awkward minutes with nothing happening, he thought that maybe he would have to actually call for the creature.

He rubbed a hand down his face, being mindful not to dislodge the leather eye patch, stopping once he reached the end of his beard. _I can’t believe I’m doing this_ …Joaquín swallowed in an attempt to make his throat less tight. “I’ve returned…I’ve done as you asked.” He called out, looking up at the branches of the tree and walking around the trunk. After circling the tree once, and with no creature to show for it, he opened his mouth to call louder this time.

“I’m impressed, boy. I didn’t think you’d be able to do it.”

Joaquín spun around on his heel, his free hand instinctively reaching for one of his swords, but he stopped mid draw. There stood the creature, looking just as bored as he’d remembered. After a moment, he tossed the bag and the medal at the creature’s feet, watching him closely.

The creature raised an eyebrow, circling his wrist towards the ground as the bag and the medal started to float. A quick motion of the creature’s hand, and the bag opened, revealing Chakal’s head. He made an indistinguishable sound before waving his hand again, the bag and the medal disappearing. The creature looked down on the soldier, almost as if studying him, his long fingers drumming on his staff. “Well, thank you for your…service. You can be on your way now.”

He did draw is sword this time, his voice coming out as a growl. “We had a deal.”

One of the creature’s hands came up to rub over the end of his staff, almost like he was caressing the snake head. “You should have thought about that before you handed over your only bargaining chips.” His other hand continued to drum on his staff. “Now that I have what I want, I don’t feel the need to do anything for you. In fact, all of this is your fault. So really, you’ve only just leveled your debt.”

Joaquín’s lips curled into a snarl and he took an advancing step toward the creature. “What? I did exactly what you wanted me to: I brought you the medal and Chakal’s head! I kept my end of the deal, and now you’re backing out? You unhonorable coward!”

The creature’s form straightened and he appeared to loom over the soldier. “I would watch your mouth, boy. You have no idea who you’re talking to.”

He wasn’t even fazed by the attempt at intimidation. “I did as you asked, what reason would you have to go back on our deal, other than you’re a liar and cheat and can’t do what you claim!”

The creature’s eyes narrowed, and his mouth pressed into a thin line. “Fine, you want to see your friends so bad? I’ll be _happy_ to reunite you…” His voice rumbled as he switched his staff from one hand to the other, reaching forward with one long, pointed finger towards the soldier.

Just as he was about to touch the mortal, a string of marigolds slapped against his hand. He flinched and recoiled, looking to his right where the attack had come from.

“That’s enough, Xibabla. You’ve tormented this poor boy for too long.”

A tall woman with glittering white skin, a long red dress, and a large red hat materialized in a flurry of marigolds. Just behind her, like a flame flickering to life, another being joined them. He wasn’t as tall as the other two, and he was rounded, smelling of melted wax, he had a long poofy white beard decorated with carved stone. A large book floated around him, appearing to almost hide behind his shoulder from the creature – Xibalba.

Joaquín had no idea what was going on, his eye darting from one of the tall beings to next. It widened when he realized that these were gods, but not just any gods…gods of the dead. He didn’t know why he hadn’t figure it out sooner, since he was told stories about these beings when he was little. “W-what’s going on?”

The woman, La Muerte he thought her name was, turned her attention to him, her eyes looking at him with sorrow. “We’ve come to stop you from making a terrible mistake.” She folded her hands in front of her, side glancing Xibalba with a brief glare. “Since my _husband_ likes to leave out very important details regarding his deals and wagers.”

Xibalba glanced to the side, his wings curling around himself from the glare, and his shoulders hunched protectively. He kept his gaze far away from the mortal and the other gods.

The soldier’s brow furrowed, and he shook his head. “I don’t think I understand. I just…I just want to be with my friends…and he was going to give me that. Wasn’t he?”

For a moment there was pity in La Muerte’s eyes, but it was quickly covered up. “I’m afraid not, Joaquín. What you’re asking for is impossible now.”

His heart sunk, and a cold shiver of fear shot down his spine. “W-what?”

The female god looked over her shoulder to the one resembling wax behind her. The god came forward, the floating book following close behind. He gave La Muerte a worried look, but she simply nodded at him.

He breathed a heavy sigh, and waved his hand in front of him, the book following the action and opened. On the book’s pages was the image of Manolo under the tree with Xibalba, followed by pictures of him in the Land of the Remembered. “When your friend Manolo died, it was under the impression that he would be reunited with María. But as you know, she was still alive, and you brought her out of the trace because of the Medal of Everlasting Life.” The page of the book flipped, showing more scenes and pictures from Manolo’s journey.

“When he found out he had been tricked, Manolo went on a quest to find La Muerte with his family. They reached her in the Land of the Forgotten, and he told her how Xibalba had cheated.” Another page flip and more pictures appeared. “Manolo made a wager of his own when Xibalba refused to reverse what he’d done. If he won, he’d get his life back. But if he lost, he would be forgotten.” A picture of a large skeletal bull appeared on the pages of the book, with a very, very tiny Manolo fighting it.

The next page revealed Manolo picking up the sword and dispatching the bull. “When he killed the bull, he lost the wager, and became forgotten…” The god flipped a few pages forward to show a picture of Manolo wasting away in the Land of the Forgotten.

Joaquín’s heart clenched painfully seeing his best friend look so hopeless and lifeless. He wanted to look away from the picture, but at the same time he couldn’t bring himself to avert his eye. He glanced up at the god, his eye wide and pleading, but the only thing reflected back at him was somber look.

The book flipped forward, the pages blurring from the motion. This time, the pictures showed María waking up in the Land of the Remembered. “The first thing María did when she arrived was look for Manolo, and immediately went to La Muerte when she couldn’t find him. She learned about the wager, and demanded to see Xibalba to make her own wager for Manolo to be remembered again.” He glanced over at Xibalba, who was still refusing to look at anyone and appearing to look aloof and bored, before waving his hand in front of the book again. “Xibalba didn’t want to make a wager at first, but then he got the bright idea that if she lost, then he’d get to see the two suffer even more watching each other waste away in the Land of the Forgotten.”

Next to him, La Muerte crossed her arms and growled at Xibalba, the taller god flinching at the sound.

Joaquín would have found it funny if the hole where his heart used to be wasn’t trying to consume him. He rubbed at his chest, though it did nothing to ease the maddening ache there. He swallowed thickly, his voice lacking the strength he wished it had. “What happened?”

A frown pulled at the wax god’s mouth, and the book flipped to the next page. The pictures showed María making the wager with Xibalba, being teleported in the ring where Manolo had his bullfight, and facing two people; one was Manolo, still very much forgotten, and the other looked like Joaquín. “María’s challenge was to figure out which one of them was real.”

The soldier looked at the picture, leaning close and squinting at the image. Both he and Manolo looked perfect, so it didn’t have to do with looks from what he could tell…but something else about the picture was bothering him, he just couldn’t put his finger on it. A niggling feeling pulled at his mind and his eye darted to Xibalba.

“The answer’s no. You were never there.” The god grumbled, earning him another glare from La Muerte. Under the goddess’s gaze, Xibalba seemed to fidget.

“Then Manolo was the real one, right?” Joaquín asked, watching the book’s pages turn again. When the wax god couldn’t meet his eye, his hope plummeted.

“After talking with them for a while, she discovered the one that looked like you couldn’t answer some of her questions and was acting strangely. And when she talked to Manolo, he knew everything she asked, and was acting the way he should.” The images showed María and Manolo talking, and when the page flipped it showed María cupping Manolo’s cheek. She had chosen which one she thought was real.

Joaquín’s eyebrows knit together. Something about that close up image didn’t look right to him. A second later he knew why the image looked strange; the head of Manolo’s guitar was on the wrong side. A painful realization hit him and his stomach churned with sickness, his legs almost giving out from under him. _Oh gods_ … “T-that’s not him…” Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Xibalba’s eyes flick to him in surprise.

The wax god gave Joaquín a sympathetic look, nodding. “She noticed the same thing you did a second too late, and by then she had already failed the challenge.” The book closed it’s pages, flittering back behind the god. “María protested, saying that Xibalba cheated, which he did…” He sent another displeased look towards Xibalba, but the god ignored it. “But his excuse that she should have noticed was sound…and so she too, became forgotten.”

He looked at each of the gods, tightening his grip on his sword and pointed it at Xibalba. “Then I want your half of the deal to make them remembered again.”

La Muerte floated into his line of vision, uncrossing her arms and once again folding her hands in front of her. “I’m afraid it can’t be done.”

Panic started to rise in his chest, his throat closing up at a thought he didn’t want to recognize. “Why? I’ll make a wager if I have to! But please, _please_ make them remembered again!”

“Joaquín.” Her voice was soft and gentle, and he calmed fractionally at the tone. The goddess bent down and brushed cool fingers over his cheek, looking at him with mournful eyes. “They’re gone.”

_They’re gone._

His vision became blurry, and his throat closed off even more, making it difficult to breathe. The ache in his chest intensified, threatening to devour him. “No. They can’t be. They _can’t_.” Joaquín’s mind raced, grasping at anything that could help him. “There has to be something that can be done. Some way they can come back.” The soldier looked at the gods, pleading for them to help him. He knew it was insane to let himself hope that something could be done, but there had to be _something_.

It couldn’t end like this.

_Please don’t leave me._

La Muerte stood back up, her features morphing into something sorrowful. “I’m so sorry, but they’re gone. They cannot be restored because they no longer exist. There is nothing left of them to bring back.”

 _They’re gone. They’re gone. They’re gone_ …

With those words, Joaquín shattered. He swayed for a moment on his feet before his legs could no longer support him and he collapsed to the ground. His sword was dug into the earth in front of him in a weak attempt at keeping himself upright, he grasped the hilt with both hands in a white knuckled grip. The soldier slumped forward with shoulders hunched until his forehead met the pommel.

He wanted to scream and cry and curse the world for taking away the two people most important to him. But he felt numb and empty. He felt nothing but the horrible ache that radiated outwards from where his heart should be. Joaquín knew that his heart still beat in his chest, but it might as well have stopped for all he cared. He had nothing to live for, and nothing to look forward to after he died. What was the point of an afterlife if the ones he loved wouldn’t be there with him?

Joaquín calmed his inner turmoil as best he could, letting the numbness he felt spread to every part of his mind and body. He already had an answer to his question; he didn’t even have to think about it: _there wasn’t_. There was no point in continuing on as he was to waste away into nothing. He’d made his decision, just like his friends had. He only prayed these gods honored his request.

“If Manolo and María no longer exist…I don’t want to either. Destroy me. Completely.”


End file.
